


Freedom is Just Another Word for Nothing Left to Lose

by BluebeardsWife



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3235172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluebeardsWife/pseuds/BluebeardsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendan gets out of prison. Semi-canon-compliant. Mostly fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Brendan exhaled sharply as he took a step over the threshold of the prison's steely gates. He had known that he would be released for months now. Somehow it still felt like a surprise.   
He wasn't proud of striking a deal with the cops to bust up a prison drug ring. It was not his style to be a snitch. But as the days and nights spent caged like an animal dragged on, he had found himself looking for loopholes in God's repercussions for suicide. He had to get out – by any means necessary. So he did what needed to be done and waited patiently for his release date.  
The months he waited felt like an eternity but still weren't long enough to make up Brendan's mind about what to do next. He had spent hours every day poring over the letters Cheryl had been sending regularly though he never wrote her back. He had scanned them again and again for information about Steven. Cheryl had awkwardly informed him that Ste was married now, though Brendan had had to do some sleuthing on his own to find out to whom. Marriage was certainly an obstacle, but it did not stop them being together the first time, so clearly it wasn't insurmountable.   
As he walked into the street a wave of panic washed over him. The air was cold and sharp and the grey sky was drizzling soft mist over everything. Cars whizzed past him on the street and somewhere in the distance he could hear children shouting. He hadn't heard a child's voice in ages. The whole world seemed to rush at him all at once, and images of events that happened before prison flashed before his eyes. Seamus advancing on him and collapsing. Cheryl's shaky hand holding the gun. His confession. Pain. Steven. He leaned against the wall of the prison and took a deep breath. Steven.   
"Bren!" a familiar voice tore him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Cheryl running towards him, her clothes a blur of pink and yellow. Her face was wet with tears as she half-shouted, "You didn't think you could hide this from me, big brother, did you?"   
She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him so tight that Brendan had trouble breathing. He returned the hug, surprised by how much comfort he found in it. He hadn't told Cheryl about his release and was pleasantly surprised by her presence. He had been determined to get back on his feet on his own before letting anyone know he was out, but found relief in the knowledge that he could let Cheryl take care of him for a while. They stayed in a silent hug for a long time, until Nate approached awkwardly and greeted Brendan. Cheryl pulled away and, wiping the tears from her face, said, "We're parked just down the street. You're coming to stay with us for a while. C'mon." It was not an offer but a command. She took his arm and led Brendan towards the car.   
...  
The days spent at Cheryl's were a blur. Mostly, Cheryl cooked elaborate meals for him and urged him to eat more claiming he was emaciated. It wasn't true – the food in prison was bad but sufficient, and Brendan had made a point of following a strict workout regime whenever possible. He was, perhaps, a bit leaner than before, but far from skinny. It seemed as though Cheryl talked constantly just to fill the silence, and while at first Brendan found it comforting, it quickly started to annoy him. A week after he had arrived, he shaved off his beard into the familiar moustache and announced to Cheryl that he was going back to Hollyoaks.   
"You do know he's married, right?" Cheryl couldn't hide the look of concern on her face. "Not that that's stopped you being together before..." she added as an afterthought.  
"I just wanna see him." Brendan said simply. Cheryl nodded.   
She offered to help him pack and gave him a ride to the airport the next day. Brendan was thankful that she didn't insist on asking questions or trying to dissuade him. The goodbye was quick and simple, with an offer for Brendan to come stay with Cheryl any time. Before he knew it, he was walking through the familiar streets of Hollyoaks, pretending that the butterflies in his stomach were from hunger.   
...  
Ste put up the "OPEN" sign on the deli door and busied himself with preparing the rest of the day's ingredients. He hummed some familiar tune to himself, and it occurred to him that he was happy for the first time in a long while. He and JP had had some rough times, but the past few weeks everything seemed to fall into place. They had even had a quickie before work this morning, which is why Ste was behind on opening the shop. He smiled to himself at the thought of the morning's activities. He heard the door open and yelled "I'll be right there!" trying to finish chopping some onions before looking up.   
"Hello, Steven."   
The familiar voice made him jump. His knife slipped, and bright red blood spilled out of a long gash across his hand. Ste lifted his eyes, and right there in front of him stood Brendan fucking Brady, moustache and all.   
...  
Brendan rushed around the counter and guided Ste to the sink to clean up his cut.   
"First aid kit?" he asked as he turned on the faucet and positioned Ste's hand under the cold water.   
Ste looked positively shell shocked.   
"Uh... uh...." he stared at Brendan for a moment before finally coming to his senses at the sight of Brendan's raised eyebrows. "The cabinet on the left."  
Brendan grabbed the kit and took Ste's hand gently. "It's not as bad as it looks." He said. They stood like that, Ste's hand in Brendan's, for a moment longer before Brendan turned off the faucet and busied himself with cleaning and bandaging Ste's cut.   
"I hear congratulations are in order." Brendan said casually.   
"Wha?" Ste had no idea what he meant.   
Brendan wrapped his index finger and thumb around the wedding ring on Ste's finger and gave it a soft twist. Ste felt like the ground fell out from underneath him. Brendan's sudden presence in his deli, in Hollyoaks, in his life, had momentarily obscured all other thought from Ste's head, until he suddenly remembered John Paul.   
"Yeah." Was all he could muster, still staring open mouthed at Brendan. Brendan smiled as he finished bandaging Ste's hand.  
"Well I was just letting you know that I'm back. Thought I'd check in." He patted Ste's shoulder awkwardly and turned around to leave.   
"I'm staying in Chez's old flat. I'm sure I'll be seeing you." He was gone as quickly as he had appeared.


	2. Chapter 2

By the end of the day, Ste wasn't quite sure how he had made it through. He kept messing up customer orders, bumping into things, and even dropping a tray of cookies when John Paul gave him a surprise visit as he was closing up.  
"I've been a mess all day," Ste told him awkwardly, picking up ruined cookies from the floor.  
"What happened to your hand?" John Paul made a movement to reach for Ste's hand, but Ste pulled away.  
"Nothing. Just a scratch. I was chopping onions." Ste couldn't look John Paul in the eyes. _You have to tell him about Brendan_ , he thought to himself. _He'll find out sooner or later_. "I'm almost done here. We can go home in a few." He busied himself with the cleanup, continuing to ignore the ever more frantic voice of reason in his head.  
...  
That evening was the first time in months that Brendan could do whatever he wanted. He was alone in the flat; no one around to monitor or control him. He could go out dancing if he felt like it. He was free of Seamus, as well as the shame that his father had instilled in him. He was free of the prison bars that had surrounded him for so long. Brendan Brady was a free man. He laughed loudly to himself at the thought as he poured a whisky, but couldn't help but notice that his hand was shaking as he raised the glass to his mouth. The pleasant burn of the liquor in his throat made him feel alive again. His slate had been wiped clean. It was just a matter of not fucking it all up again. He wanted Steven back, that much he knew. But how low was he willing to stoop this time to get him?  
...  
John Paul decided to drop in for lunch at the deli the next day. Ste had clearly been behaving oddly, and he just wanted to make sure everything was okay. Ste was listening to music and putting away some dishes when John Paul walked in.  
"Hiya!" Ste grinned at him. "What're you doing here?"  
"Just making sure there hasn't been another hand massacre." John Paul joked.  
"Well it looks like I still have all my limbs and digits!" Ste waved his hands.  
"Good." John Paul leaned over the counter to give Ste a kiss when the door opened and Ste, staring at the new customer, failed to lean forward. John Paul turned around and found himself face to face with Brendan Brady.  
"The lovely couple!" Brendan grinned at him. "Congratulations."  
"What are _you_ doing here?" John Paul asked, aghast. "Aren't you in prison?"  
"Out." Brendan said simply, grabbing a piece of hard candy from the counter, unwrapping it noisily, and putting it in his mouth.  
"Mmm." He said and pointed toward Ste's hand. "How's your hand doing? Healing okay?"  
He glanced over at John Paul's confused expression with a small smile.  
"Oh, don't tell me he didn't tell you I was back?" Brendan said in a tone of mock concern. "Steven, what were you thinking? Trust and honesty are the basis of a strong relationship."  
John Paul glanced over at Ste who looked like he wished the ground would swallow him up whole.  
"Well," Brendan turned to leave. "I'll let you get to..." he pointed vaguely at the counter between Ste and John Paul, "whatever it is you were doing."  
With a swish of the door, he was gone.  
"I just didn't know what to say." Ste muttered. "He was back and I cut my hand and he was gone." He looked at John Paul pleadingly. "I didn't know what to say."  
John Paul turned around without a word and opened the door to leave. He hesitated for a moment before facing Ste again.  
"Sort it out." He said, and Ste nodded. As he left his husband in the deli, John Paul thought back on the evening he had spent with Brendan in Dublin. Why did things always have to be so complicated?  
...  
Ste leaned against the wall of the deli and sighed deeply. He had kept himself busy since Brendan's first appearance, trying not to think about what it meant. He cared about John Paul. Why, just yesterday, they were very happy together. And Brendan. Well, Brendan always meant trouble. Their final exchange before Brendan was sent off to prison echoed in Ste's head. "I'm never gonna feel any differently about you," they had both said. Ste had meant it. He knew, even now, that he meant it. If Brendan had come in and asked Ste to leave with him, Ste would have done so without a second thought. But instead, Brendan seemed to be back to playing games, and Ste didn't know how to react to that other than to play back. Was this a weird mating ritual that always ended with them in bed together? Or was it a game in which Brendan ruined his life just for the hell of it? Ste couldn't be sure. He had to confront Brendan. It was the only way.  
He took off his apron, flipped the "OPEN" sign at the door and walked, determined, to Cheryl's old flat.  
...  
Brendan was pacing in the living room when the knock came at his door. He wondered if it would be John Paul looking for a fight, but was pleasantly surprised to find Steven standing outside, alone. He opened the door wider and gestured for Ste to come in, closing the door behind him.  
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked.  
"We need to talk."  
"So talk."  
They stood in silence for a good minute before Brendan walked towards the kitchen and put on the kettle.  
"Cuppa?" he asked, casually.  
"What are you playing at?" Ste burst out.  
"I don't know what you mean." Brendan replied, setting out the cups for tea.  
"D'you think you can just come here and mess with my life whenever you feel like it?" Ste shouted, getting in Brendan's face. "I'm married now, I have a business, I'm doing great without you, right? I don't need this."  
"Then why are you here?" Brendan asked calmly.  
"Because you! You just come here and mess everything up!"  
"How?"  
Ste sputtered for a moment before giving up on words and pushing Brendan hard against the kitchen counter. Brendan grabbed his arms and pushed back, driving Ste into the wall behind him and pinning his arms up.  
"You think you can take me, do ya?" he said through gritted teeth, his face mere inches from Steven's.  
Ste, without thinking, lunged forward and mashed his lips hard against Brendan's. The kiss was returned immediately, as the men groped at each other furiously, their tongues tasting each other for the first time in years.


	3. Chapter 3

It was almost muscle memory. Brendan's lips parted for Ste's without any hesitation, and his hand assumed the familiar gesture of grabbing the back of Ste's head, as though they had never been separated. A small grunt escaped from Brendan's throat as Ste bunched up the fabric of his shirt in his eager fingers.

"I love you, Steven Hay." The words mumbled in between feverish kisses on his neck and jaw line sent a chill down Ste's spine. Steven Hay.

He wasn't Steven Hay anymore, though, was he? He hadn't been Steven Hay for a while. In fact, he didn't even know who that was anymore. Steven Hay had not been a drug dealer or a killer. Ste McQueen, on the other hand...

Brendan pulled away slightly, sensing Ste's body tense up.

"Everything okay?" he asked, knowing, on some level, that he didn't want to hear the answer.

"No!" Ste burst out, unraveling himself from Brendan's arms forcefully. "No, nothing's okay. I'm married to John Paul now. My name isn't Steven Hay. It's Ste. Ste McQueen. Get it right, yeah?"

And with tears in his eyes and an ache in his chest, he stormed out, leaving a bewildered Brendan staring at the door.

...

Brendan's head was reeling from Ste's departure. He had no idea what he had done wrong. Did Steven not want him? No, no, Steven initiated the kiss. He still fancied Brendan, that much was clear. Did he not love him? Was he torn? Did he really love John Paul? Jealousy rose inside Brendan's chest, and he felt himself losing control just as the tea kettle reached a high-pitched whistle. He slapped the kettle off the stove in a rage, spilling boiling water everywhere.

The sharp pain in his hand brought him suddenly back down to earth. He looked at the red palm of his right hand as though seeing it for the first time. Maybe Hollyoaks was the wrong decision. Slowly, unthinkingly, Brendan walked over to the sink and ran icy water over his palm. He sighed at the relief the cold provided and stared as the water washed over his hand. Steven just needed some time, he decided.

...

Ste let the tears fall as he walked home. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He loved Brendan. He craved him. But he couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't let Brendan keep bouncing in and out of his life. He had long given up on the possibility of a happy ending with Brendan Brady. Things could still be good with John Paul. John Paul, who incidentally already knew most of the things that Ste had done and still wanted him. John Paul, who had forgiven him so many times before. John Paul, who was standing in front of him as he opened the door, not having bothered to wipe up the tears because he hadn't expected anyone to be home.

Ste closed the door behind him quietly and walked past John Paul to the living room.

"It's sorted," he said, sitting down and wiping his face on his sleeve.

"Are you crying because he rejected you?" John Paul asked, his arms crossed.

With a deep sigh, Ste looked up at him.

"I rejected him." He said simply.

"And I'm supposed to believe that why?"

"'Cause I would've cleaned meself up before coming home if I wanted to hide it from you, right? D'you think I'm stupid?" Ste knew he was getting defensive, but he suddenly felt angry at his husband. Was this his first reaction to seeing him cry? Anger? Jealousy?

John Paul's expression softened.

"Well, why are you crying then?" he asked.

"You know how much he meant to me. It was hard, right?" Ste responded honestly, with a muffled sob. He was tired of lying and cheating and deceiving people. If he was going to do this, it needed to be done right. He wiped the tears from his eyes again.

"But I love _you_ now." Ste stood up and approached his husband, placing his arms around his neck. "Do you trust me?"

After a moment's hesitation, John Paul nodded and gave him a soft kiss.

...

Brendan had never been the outdoorsy type, but he couldn't pretend he didn't have a newfound appreciation for a morning jog. The parks where he could run in Hollyoaks certainly weren't glamorous, but the fresh air alone was enough to fill Brendan with exhilaration. These were the brief moments when he was able to let go of all thought, all regret, and all fear, and just feel the wind on his face.

He ran until his lungs felt like they were about to collapse and then walked leisurely back home. His timing, it turned out, was impeccable, as he turned the corner and practically smashed into John Paul, who was escorting Ste to work. Brendan took an exaggerated step back and lifted his hands.

"Excuse me, lads, didn't see you there."

After a moment's pause, he flashed John Paul a devilish grin and patted his arm.

"No hard feelings, yeah?"

"Why would there be?" John Paul asked defiantly.

Brendan's eyes met Ste's for a second, and he knew that Steven hadn't told about the kiss.

"No reason, no reason."

He chuckled and started to leave, stopping suddenly and turning on his heel to face the two men again.

"You know, I'm new in town. Sorta." A casual wave of the hand. "But let's just say I'm not the most popular bloke. Could use a couple of mates to have a pint with sometime, yeah?"

Brendan looked from John Paul to Ste and back again.

"Alright," Ste stammered, grimacing apologetically at John Paul.

"Sure." John Paul agreed with a dramatic roll of the eyes. "Why not?"

"Fantastic!" Brendan clapped his hands together. "Say around 7? At the Dog? First round's on me."

And with that, Brendan strutted off, leaving a flustered Ste explaining to his husband that Brendan had just gotten out of prison, that Cheryl and his kids were all in Ireland, and that he couldn't just leave him alone after everything they'd been through, all the while bristling with hidden excitement at the prospect of seeing his former lover again.


	4. Chapter 4

"You're sure it's okay if I go by myself?" Ste asked tentatively. "'Cause I can cancel, no problem..."

"I trust you," John Paul said, adjusting his tie. "And besides, this meeting won't take all night. I'll join you later."

Ste nodded, still with a look of concern on his face. He was glad that John Paul trusted him, but, if he was honest, he didn't really trust himself. Not around Brendan, anyway. As he gave his husband a quick kiss goodbye and closed the door behind him, Ste felt like a schoolboy whose parents were leaving for the night.

"Nothing's gonna happen." He said out loud to himself, but the shakiness of his voice did nothing to reassure him.

It wasn't until he found himself standing in his bedroom freshly showered and shaved, a towel wrapped around his waist, and surrounded by rejected outfits for the evening that he realized what he was doing. He sat down on the bed and rested his face in his hands.

...

Brendan had just finished grooming his moustache when his phone buzzed. He blinked at the incoming message from Ste: _cant make it tonite. smt came up. sry. rain check?_ Brendan let out a small laugh and set the phone back down without replying.

...

"Thank you," Brendan said and threw some cash on the bar as he reached for his pint at the Dog.

He walked to a table in the corner, pretending not to notice Steven entering the pub out of the corner of his eye. Ste was looking flustered, his shirt slightly untucked, and his hair messy from the wind outside. He took a deep breath and approached Brendan's table.

"Did you get my text?" he asked without any ado.

"Hello, Steven." Brendan said casually. "Can I buy you a drink? Strictly friendly, of course."

"No," Ste said, confused. "I sent you a text."

"Lost my phone." Brendan lied, taking a sip of his beer, the foam sticking momentarily to his dark moustache. "What did it say?"

"I... I can't make it tonight." Ste said sheepishly.

"And yet." Brendan looked him up and down.

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, Ste grabbed the back of the chair across from Brendan and plopped himself down.

"I can only stay for one pint." He said, to Brendan's satisfaction.

But just as Brendan turned around to look for a waiter, a muffled ringing sound filled the air around them. Their eyes met and in an instant Brendan's plans were shattered. Brendan pulled out the phone from a pocket in his jacket and silenced it. The screen continued to flash "CHERYL" at them as Brendan threw it casually on the table.

"Look, I don't know what you're playing at," Ste said, standing up. "But I'm not playing along." He turned and walked quickly out of the bar.

Ste couldn't believe that he had been so stupid _AGAIN_. This was definitely the last straw.

"Steven!" Brendan's voice called from behind him and Ste picked up his pace.

"Steven!" Brendan was flat out running to catch up with him. Why was he even chasing after him? Why did Brendan enjoy ruining his life? Ste stopped abruptly and turned to face Brendan, who almost crashed into him.

"Steven." He said again.

"What?" Ste all but shouted. "Oh, wait, don't tell me! You're doing this because you love me. You can't live your life without me. What are you gonna promise me this time, ey? How stupid do you think I am? I'm not going through this again!"

He realized that he had said too much before the words even left his mouth. The hurt on Brendan's face felt unfair.

"Did you arrange for John Paul to have a meeting tonight?" Ste then asked, trying to keep his composure.

Brendan hesitated for a moment.

"Yes." He finally admitted, looking anywhere but at Ste.

Ste had been prepared for more lies and manipulation. So much so that the honest response completely disarmed him. He knew it shouldn't make a difference, but the question tore from him almost involuntarily: 

"Why?"

"Because I love you, and I can't live my life without you." Brendan said with a smile, and Ste let out a small laugh in spite of himself.

"That's the first time I've seen you laugh since..." Brendan let his voice trail off, gently raising his hand to stroke a stray lock of hair away from Ste's forehead.

The familiar gesture sent shivers running down Ste's entire body. He was suddenly painfully aware of the proximity of Brendan's body to his own, of the musky scent he was inhaling, and the warm breath that now caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes and let himself sink into the feeling as Brendan's lips met his again.

...

Ste checked to make sure his fly was zipped up for the third time on their short walk back to the pub. Secret blow jobs behind a dumpster in an alley were not his idea of a perfect evening, but he couldn't deny the joy that spread through his whole body at the mere recollection of it. Brendan had insisted he didn't want anything in return and quietly followed Ste back to the pub as Ste frantically made excuses and insisted that this was just a one off and that he was loyal to and loved his husband.

"John Paul is meeting us at the Dog, so you better not say nothing." He repeated for the fourth time.  Brendan was too focused on the familiar taste in his mouth to even be upset by Ste's flip flopping.

They entered the pub together to find John Paul already standing at the bar looking simultaneously crestfallen and livid. Out of the corner of his eye, Ste could see a smile spread on Brendan's lips. His thoughts raced in an attempt to find a viable excuse.

"JP!" Brendan said happily. "So glad you could come."

John Paul ignored him, choosing to glare at Ste instead.

"And where have you two been?" he asked quietly. 

"I was showing young Steven here my car." Brendan lied easily. "Brand new Mercedes-Benz convertible. Nothing beats feeling the wind in your moustache, you know what I mean?" He gestured towards his moustache, looked over at Ste, as though expecting a laugh and then let out a faux-disappointed sigh.

"Tough crowd." He finished. "Pints all around?"


	5. Chapter 5

Ste wasn't sure how the evening turned into a pissing contest between Brendan and John Paul, but there was no denying that it did. Several pints and some whisky shots later, John Paul was determined to drink Brendan under the table, and Brendan seemed to find the mere idea amusing.

After his gentle protestations were repeatedly ignored by both men, Ste had taken to pouting while nursing his drink and watching the two men pretend to be friendly with one another. He wasn't even sure why they needed him there. They were antagonizing each other so much that they were practically flirting. As soon as the thought occurred to Ste, he also remembered a night in Dublin when he had found Brendan and John Paul in bed together. It felt as though someone had poured icy water down his back.

"I hope you're not counting on Steven's noodle arms to carry you home tonight," Brendan was saying to an obviously inebriated John Paul. "Or were you hoping I'd carry you?"

He downed a shot of whisky and gave Ste a lopsided half-smile.

"Maybe _I'll_ carry _you_ ," John Paul said stupidly, slurring his words slightly.

Ste didn't know which one of them made him angrier. He also wasn't sure which one of them he was jealous of. The whole situation was a mess, and he needed to get himself out of it. He stood up suddenly.

"Right, I'm going home. You lot can do as you please. I don't care."

He walked out of the pub without looking back.

 

_..._

 

Ste awoke from uneasy sleep to loud banging at his front door. He stumbled out of bed and opened the door to find John Paul barely standing, supported primarily by Brendan's right arm. John Paul mumbled something incomprehensible and practically fell over into Ste's arms.

"Here, I've got it." Brendan said as he got a hold on John Paul again and helped Ste carry him into the bedroom.

They threw the passed out John Paul onto the bed and walked back out into the living room, Ste closing the door behind him.

"Ta for bringing him home." Ste said.

He was too tired and worried to be angry.  Brendan smelled of alcohol but seemed in control of himself. Ste could only tell he was drunk by the inappropriate length of time he spent looking down at Ste's crotch, which was barely covered by his boxers.

"It was my pleasure, Steven," Brendan said.

"Are you okay to get home?" Ste asked in a shaky voice.

It took all he had to maintain his composure. Brendan raised his chin a little as though fielding off an emotional blow. He smiled perfunctorily and nodded, heading for the door.

"Brendan..." the word tore from Ste without thought, and Brendan turned around instantly.

Ste hesitated for a moment. _Fuck it. Fuck it all to hell_ , he thought and practically threw himself in Brendan's arms.

He could taste the whisky on Brendan's tongue as they kissed and feel the burn of Brendan's stubble, the tickle of his mustache on Ste's upper lip. Brendan ran his fingers through Ste's sandy hair and pulled on it a little as he pushed Ste into the wall behind him. Ste pushed forward with his hips and ground his pelvis into Brendan's, forcing a small grunt out of Brendan's throat.

He knew that his husband was asleep in the other room, but instead of scaring him, the thought excited him even more. A covert blow job wouldn't do this time, Ste wanted to be fucked – and fucked hard. The truth was that sex had never been as good with anyone as it was with Brendan, and, even if he hadn't still been madly in love with the Irish _asshole_ , Ste thought that he might have given into temptation tonight.

As it was, there was not an ounce of resistance left in his body as he succumbed entirely to the hot kisses Brendan was planting on his neck and ear, his hands reaching for Brendan's belt seemingly of their own volition. Brendan offered no resistance and paused the frantic kissing momentarily to allow Ste to unbutton his jeans. He watched Ste's face attentively, reveling in the obvious lust emanating from Ste's eyes. As Brendan's jeans fell to the ground, he cradled Ste's face in his hands and kissed him again, slowly, this time, and deeply. Ste's fingers ventured underneath Brendan's black t-shirt, caressing his stomach and chest.

"Brendan..." Ste moaned, letting his nails scratch across Brendan's chest.

"Tell me what you want, Steven." Brendan growled into his ear.

Brendan eased his hand between the soft fabric of Ste's boxers and his pelvis, running his fingers through the soft curls underneath.

"Tell me," he repeated.

Ste looked up at him through damp eyelashes. He didn't trust his voice but he could never resist Brendan's commands.

"Fuck me." He said simply and his voice came out sultry and dripping with desire.

Brendan chuckled before kissing him again, fast and hard this time. He practically tore off Ste's boxers, and the rest of his own clothes, leaving them in a puddle on the floor. They all but fell over onto the couch, alternating between furious kisses and gentle caresses.

"Lube?" Brendan asked after a while, running his fingers lightly over Ste's exposed cock.

"Bedroom." Ste said.

He disentangled himself quickly from Brendan and ran into his bedroom. He burst into the room to the shocking reminder that his passed out husband was snoring lightly in their bed. A sudden wave of guilt and shame washed over him. Is this the kind of person he was? How could he do this to John Paul? After everything they'd been through. And with Brendan! Brendan who was playing games and manipulating once again, who hadn't explained how he was even out of prison, who had planned all along to get John Paul drunk so that he could seduce Ste.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, appalled, but suddenly embarrassed by his own behavior, Ste reached into a drawer and put on a new pair of boxers. He grabbed a robe from the chair next to the bed and wrapped himself in it. He turned to see Brendan standing in the doorway, wearing his jeans again and putting on his t-shirt. He gave Ste a small smile, unable to hide the hurt in his eyes. "I'll let myself out." He said before leaving.


	6. Chapter 6

Ste spent a restless night on the couch, unsure who he was more angry at – himself, Brendan, or his husband. It was clear that they had all fucked up, but the bottom line was that it was all Ste's fault. He was never able to resist Brendan's mind games, partly because he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He had to keep reminding himself that Brendan meant trouble. He meant pain and lies and manipulations. John Paul meant stability.  
Eventually, Ste fell into an uneasy sleep, plagued by visions of John Paul and Brendan kissing passionately, taking breaks only to laugh at him. Ste tried to scream and yell at them, but no sound came out of his mouth. He tried to reach for them but it was as though he was moving through sludge, every motion requiring tremendous effort and ultimately failing to reach his target. As the kisses between Brendan and JP grew more feverish, Ste started to panic and woke up with a loud gasp.  
It took a few moments to remember why he was sleeping on the couch, and the panic and anger left over from his dream quickly turned back into guilt and dread. Ste walked over to the bedroom, where he found his husband still fully clothed, but now wrapped clumsily in some blankets, still fast asleep and snoring lightly. 

***  
Brendan wiped the sweat from his brow as he unlocked his front door. This morning's run only served to remind him that his body could no longer exert itself to the fullest extent after a night of drinking like it used to. Nevertheless, he had completed his workout and felt better for it. He took off his shirt and threw it on the couch on the way to the bathroom. He finished undressing and stepped into the shower, letting the cool water wash over him. Though he was loath to admit it to himself, it was clear what he needed to do. Love, he knew, wasn't about possession or obsession. It wasn't about having it reciprocated or physically consummated. Love, he knew, was something else entirely. If he really loved Steven, Brendan decided, he had to let him go. 

***  
John Paul awoke shortly after noon, and Ste played the role of the dutiful husband, making him coffee, providing an aspirin, and attempting to get him to eat some breakfast. Though his husband apologized profusely for his behavior the previous night, Ste seemed distracted and unhappy, and John Paul assumed that he had made even more of an ass of himself than he remembered and swore to be a better partner in the future. This Brendan thing wasn't Ste's fault, after all, and he needed to be more trusting and supportive. John Paul ran his fork through the eggs on his plate, pretending to eat some of them, though the mere thought of food made him nauseous. After a short silence, Ste rose from the dining room table suddenly, almost knocking the chair over.  
"Right, I'm gonna go to talk to him."  
John Paul was so absorbed in his own failure as a husband that it took him a moment to realize who Ste was talking about.  
"Brendan?"  
"Yes, Brendan."  
"What are you going to tell him?"  
"I'm gonna ask him to leave Hollyoaks." Ste replied, continuing after noticing the shocked expression on his husband's face. "He's only here because of me, isn't he? We aren't gonna have any peace as long as he's around. You don't know how he is. How could you?"  
Ste put on his jacket and was lacing up his trainers when John Paul asked,  
"Why were you with him?" He hadn't meant to be so blunt. "I mean, if he's so terrible, why were with him before?"  
"It's complicated." Ste said softly, reaching for the door. "Right then, soon enough he'll be out of our lives forever."  
The answer was hardly satisfactory for John Paul, and he didn't understand why Ste thought that he had the power to chase Brendan out of Hollyoaks in the first place – especially if he was as bad as Ste had made him out to be – but, overall, he was happy that Ste seemed as intent on getting rid of this disruption as he was. He threw the rest of his food in the trash and returned to bed to properly nurse his hangover. 

***  
Ste took a moment to adjust his hair and take a deep breath standing in front of the door to Brendan's flat. Just as he raised his hand to knock, however, the door flew open and he found himself face to face with Brendan.  
"Steven?" Brendan clearly hadn't expected him to be there.  
"You going somewhere?" Ste asked without thinking.  
"Going back to Dublin."  
"When are you coming back then?" Ste asked pretending not to notice the note of alarm in his own voice.  
"I'm not coming back, Steven." Brendan stepped forward, forcing Ste to step back and allow him to lock his door.  
"Wh-" Ste sputtered. "What'd you mean you're not coming back?"  
Ste felt like he had suddenly split in two. This is what he had wanted. He came here to ask Brendan to leave. He didn't think it would be this easy, but why was he so thrown by it?  
"It's what you want, isn't it?" Brendan asked.  
"Since when do you do what I want?"  
Brendan chuckled but did not respond. "Anything else?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.  
"Well, I just mean..." Ste's voice trailed off.  
"There's nothing for me here, Steven. I came back for you. You know that." Brendan looked away. "You're happily married. You don't need me to interfere in your affairs." He paused, before looking back at Ste. "Do you?"  
Ste found himself unable to hold Brendan's gaze.  
"No," he said, finally, and Brendan nodded curtly.  
"I've got a car waiting for me, so if that's all..." he said, starting to leave.  
Ste's head was swimming; he felt panic rise in his chest as he finally understood what was happening.  
"I killed my mum." He blurted out. He didn't know why he had said it. Brendan turned to face him with furrowed brow. "I've been dealing drugs on the side. I married John Paul out of... I don't know... desperation? Convenience? Loneliness. I thought you were gone for good." Words were just pouring out of his mouth now without any forethought. "I beat up Kevin after you left." Tears started filling Ste's eyes, and he wasn't even sure what he was saying or why anymore. "I killed my mum," he repeated, as though putting the final seal on his own fate.  
"Steven," Brendan approached him, putting his hand on the back of Ste's neck.  
"There is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you." Brendan said simply.  
He had said those words before, but Ste couldn't believe them, wouldn't believe them. How could anyone love this mess he had become?  
"You left me." Ste said, choking back tears. "You left me."  
Brendan pulled him into a hug, but Ste resisted, pushing Brendan away and taking a swing at him. The sheer surprise of the move left Brendan disarmed, and as Ste's fist connected with Brendan's face, Ste suddenly realized what he had done.  
"Oh shit." He said over and over again. "Oh shit. I'm so sorry, Bren."  
Blood dripped out of Brendan's nose but a smile played on his lips.  
"You've got quite the right hook for such a scrawny lad." He said, wiping the blood off with his sleeve. He paused to look at the blood on his sleeve and then glanced over at Ste, who looked utterly terrified.  
"Come to Dublin with me," Brendan said. "Final offer."


	7. Chapter 7

Brendan lay on the sofa in the dark living room, cradling a glass of whisky on his chest. Cheryl and Nate were attending a friend's wedding in the country, not planning to be back until the weekend, and Brendan was glad to have the place to himself. He downed the rest of his whisky and sat up abruptly.   
This is what he had been reduced to. Brendan Brady, drinking alone on his sister's couch, heartbroken over an ex-lover. At least he still had Cheryl, he supposed. Any thought of Ste sent a throbbing ache through his chest, so he pushed the thoughts away and poured another glass from the almost empty bottle on the table.   
He caught a glimpse of the time on his phone: 1:17am. In spite of himself, he reached for the phone and looked at the last message from Ste: "on my way to airport. dont forget to pick me up!" followed by an emoji that Brendan couldn't quite decipher. Brendan had gone to the airport. He had waited. Steven had not come.   
He wondered if he should have just whisked Steven away right then and not given him time to sort things out with John Paul or change his mind. But it was too late now. Steven had made his decision. If he was happy with his husband, Brendan decided that he wouldn't stand in the way.   
Knowing it was the right decision didn't make it any easier to bear. Brendan downed his whisky again, reached for the bottle and missed, his fingers closing around empty air instead. Shit.   
*THUMPTHUMPTHUMP*   
The noise startled Brendan, and he almost fell over onto the floor. He glanced around the room, trying to figure out where the sound came from, just as the knob on the front door turned, and he was hit with the dawning realization that someone was standing right outside. His mind suddenly more alert, he grabbed the whisky bottle off the table, in case anyone needed a good whacking over the head with it, and walked over to the door, unlocking it.   
With a gust of fresh air, in barged a very unkempt and tired looking Ste.  
"Let us in, it's freezing out here!" He pushed past Brendan, who closed the door behind him.   
"You won't believe the night I've had! First, I drop my phone out the car window," he spoke rapidly, while mimicking himself flailing to catch his phone falling out of his hands. "Like a total prat!" he snort-laughed at his own idiocy and quickly continued, while Brendan stared at him with open mouth.   
"I was trying to take a selfie, and send it to you, see? The phone's smashed. Then, then I get to the airport and they won't let me on the flight, summat about being overbooked, they give me this voucher for a free flight – kinda neat, that, isn't it? – but I have no way of calling ye or..." he stopped suddenly, as though he just finally registered Brendan's appearance.   
"What are you doing with that?" he pointed to the bottle in Brendan's hand. Brendan glanced down as though wondering this himself. After a moment of awkward silence, Brendan finally spoke.  
"You came."  
"Course I did." Ste said. "I said I would, didn't I?"  
Realizing suddenly what Brendan must have thought, Ste opened his mouth to apologize, but Brendan dropped the bottle on the floor, crossed the distance between them in two short steps, cupped Ste's face in his hands, and kissed him hungrily.   
They stayed like that for a long time, Ste grabbing on to the front of Brendan's shirt, and Brendan running his fingers through Ste's hair. Ste pretended not to notice the alcohol on Brendan's breath or the sloppiness of his kisses, which betrayed his drunkenness. He could feel the urgency of Brendan's desire for him, his desperation upon thinking Ste didn't want him anymore. For the first time since Brendan's return, Ste trusted him. He knew that Brendan had meant it, that this was not a game, just pure unadulterated love. It was all he needed to know. Finally, they were going to be together again.   
Brendan pulled away slowly, leaving Ste yearning for more. He brushed a lock of hair out of Ste's face and gave him a lopsided grin.   
"It's a good thing I can handle my liquor." He said in a gravelly voice, his eyes darting back and forth between Ste's eyes and lips, unable to contain his lust. Ste suddenly felt warm all over.   
"Yer not gonna ask me how my flight was, then?" he teased. He giggled a little, delighted and turned on by Brendan's eagerness. Brendan walked toward him, forcing Ste to walk backwards until he bumped into the wall behind him. Pressing up against him, Brendan let out a low "Steven," before kissing his lover again, intoxicated as much by his presence as by the liquor he had drunk.   
They shed their clothing clumsily on their way to the bedroom, amongst kisses and desperate caresses, and fell onto the bed, legs intertwined, hot skin on hot skin. Brendan flipped over, pinning Ste underneath him. He bit his earlobe gently, and Ste scratched his nails down Brendan's back.   
"Tell me you love me." Brendan whispered into Ste's ear, the vulnerability of the demand sending chills down Ste's spine.   
"Brendan," Ste chuckled. "I always have."  
Brendan ground his pelvis into Ste's, both men moaning at the sudden contact.   
The next few hours were a blur of sweaty limbs, fingers grabbing at hot flesh, and wet kisses. When Brendan finally felt Ste's lips on his cock, he prayed to god the moment would never end. He whispered Steven's name under his breath like a small prayer, intoxicated by the sounds of pleasure that Ste made between dragging his tongue slowly along the length of Brendan's shaft and enveloping his entire dick with his mouth.   
Through the deafening pleasure, Brendan vaguely registered a smug grin on Steven's face, as he lifted his head to meet Brendan's eyes. Ste worked his way back up Brendan's body with soft kisses, before pressing his mouth against Brendan's.   
They kissed urgently, Brendan swiftly prepping the condom and lube before entering Ste slowly. They moaned in unison. Brendan's careful, measured thrusts were met with Steven bucking against him, demanding more. Finally, they were fucking frantically, focusing all the pent up feelings that came from their long separation onto each other, until, Ste first, followed quickly by Brendan, orgasms shook their bodies and left them lying in tangled sheets, hot and sweaty, half of Brendan's body still on top of Ste.   
"I really missed you." Ste said after his breathing had calmed.   
Brendan kissed the nape of his neck softly.   
"I'm not leaving you again," he said.  
Bodies still intertwined, and with goofy smiles on their faces, both men drifted slowly off to sleep.


End file.
